


in which sophie's secretly quite fond of silver

by orthogonals



Category: Howl Series - Diana Wynne Jones
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Wordcount: 500-1.000, literally just them being sweet because don't we all need that, post-hmc, pre-cita
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26153269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orthogonals/pseuds/orthogonals
Summary: Sophie awoke to a peculiar tickling on her nose. She reached out a hand and smacked blindly in front of her face, one bleary eye cracking open with effort. A mass of spun silver assaulted her senses, the strands plastering themselves on her mouth and edging their way up her nostrils. Blinking rapidly, Sophie tried to fend off the wisps with her eyelashes. Her fingers curled into a fist and gave the misshapen heap next to her a solid thump.---OR: Howl's hair is seriously annoying. Really, it is.Russian
Relationships: Sophie Hatter/Howl Pendragon
Comments: 11
Kudos: 202





	in which sophie's secretly quite fond of silver

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't written in a while so this is a bit rusty, but re-read HMC and had _all_ the feels!

Sophie awoke to a peculiar tickling on her nose. She reached out a hand and smacked blindly in front of her face, one bleary eye cracking open with effort. A mass of spun silver assaulted her senses, the strands plastering themselves on her mouth and edging their way up her nostrils. Blinking rapidly, Sophie tried to fend off the wisps with her eyelashes. Her fingers curled into a fist and gave the misshapen heap next to her a solid thump.

“Ow!” groaned the pile of sheets, and— much to Sophie’s relief— the nest of shining locks shifted off her face. A regal profile emerged attached to the wild hair, all cut cheekbones and long lashes. “Seems a bit too early for violence, dear, even for you.” Howl turned and caught Sophie with his green-gray eyes, sleep-worn and soft around the edges.

Sophie’s heart gave a little stutter, for which she promptly chastised herself with some exasperation.

“I swear, Howl, I must inhale half a head of your hair every night. You could cut me open and find yourself a wig.” Her brows drew low, but the smile playing at her lips belied her irritation.

Howl took this as an opportunity to sweeten Sophie up; her mood would inevitably worsen as the day cleared from pinky yellows to blue. He ran a hand through his unruly, though marvelously colored, tresses, then paused, hoping to strike a brilliant pose against the backlight of the window. The corners of Sophie’s mouth turned down frightfully, and Howl quickly tipped his head down, burying a grin along the edges of her collarbone.

“C’mon, Sophie,” his voice came muffled from Sophie’s chest, arms reaching up, octopus-like, to cradle her head. “You know I can’t tie my hair up when I sleep. It’ll dent.” He punctuated his point by placing several light kisses up the ridges of Sophie’s neck, finishing with a grand peck against her pursed lips. Sophie melted against him, giving a sigh that usually foreshadowed hastily locked doors and mushy declarations of devotion.

“I suppose I could always lop it off, then,” she said, shifting to make room for Howl as he settled his weight on top of her. He made a face that contorted his features into something not so carefully handsome, licking a stripe up her nose. To Sophie’s horror, she scrunched her eyes shut and giggled, Howl’s answering chuckles vibrating against her sternum. Oh, bother. She was truly in for him, wasn’t she?

“But don’t you think I’m pretty?” Howl added piteously, putting on a pout that rivaled Martha’s during the worst of her elementary-age tantrums. Howl was terribly dramatic and thrived off attention, so Sophie really shouldn’t indulge him the way she does. But still, the pastel hues of dawn had softened everything in their room, including Sophie, and she tilted up her head to catch him in another kiss. “The prettiest I’ve ever seen,” she said softly, and Howl's face broke open into a disbelieving beam. He let out a whoop, and Sophie's ribs gave a faint creak of protest as he swept her into a bone-crushing squeeze. Sophie personally thought that Howl had no business looking quite so elated.

It seemed that somehow, sometime, between pungent powders and green slime and cowardly acts of disservice, sighting up Howl’s wonderfully straight nose and blowing away dastardly silver hair had become an indispensable part of Sophie’s happiness. She supposed it simply came with the misfortune of being the eldest.

**Author's Note:**

> Catch up with me on [tumblr](https://orthogonals.tumblr.com/)!


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